Tag Archives: beauty

She’s got this little round belly and this confidence that just goes on forever. She sings at the top of her lungs and dances with complete abandon. Watch me! Look at this! I made this song for you! She is all that is beautiful and if you ask her if she is smart she will yell, “YES!” and then tell you all she knows, and some things she doesn’t. She knows she is funny and isn’t afraid to tell a joke, and even if no one else gets it, she will be the one laughing the loudest. If she wants a hug, she will just open her arms and know that arms will enfold her too. She knows she is loved. She knows she is precious.

She will always be beautiful to me. But I want so much, so, so much for her to keep this ability to see the beauty in herself. When she has lost her chubby baby belly, is that when she will start judging the way her body is shaped? At what point does the world teach her to lower her voice, her eyes, her head?

I want to wrap her up in her innocent self-love so that it stays with her always, so that she never, ever wonders about her own worth. I don’t want her to lose her golden-fine little girl hair only to gain her mother’s insecurities.

I can’t stop the world from affecting my child in ways that I will not always like. But I can show her every day a woman who is not afraid to laugh, to love, to sing loudly, and to dance with abandon. A woman who loves herself, as she is.

It's easy to share this post. Not like sharing pie. I would never ask you to share pie.

Yeah. Well, it turns out, my strength (if I even have one, which at this point is questionable) is not hair. So just go ahead and ignore any advice I may have given in that regard.

I attempted a routine procedure tonight which I have done probably 500 times since I first turned my hair purple when I was a silly 14-year-old. It appears that now, 20 years later, I’m still pretty fucking silly.

It started out fine. I put on the gloves, mixed the solution, put it on my head. Then I read the instructions (I’ll admit, maybe that should’ve been the first step) and checked the time.

Then…I made coffee, watched the weather, re-watched that hilarious James Franco and Seth Rogan video, switched around two chairs in the living room, decided what to make for dinner, listened to an extensive recap of an X-box game courtesy of Thing 2, answered about a million questions from Thing 3…

And realized I had no freaking idea what time this shit was supposed to come off my head. Was it 5 that I started? But that would make rinse at 5:30 and it’s already 6:00, so maybe I started at 5:30 and rinse at 6:00? But maybe…was I supposed to rinse at 6:15?

I waited until 6:10 just in case. In hindsight, this was probably not the best decision I could’ve made.

I was hoping it wasn’t too bad, but the amount (not to mention color) of the hair that was FALLING OUT OF MY HEAD was a little worrisome.

Then I knew it was terrible when my husband saw me and said just two words. “Oh. God.”

I immediately went on the defensive. “I know what you’re thinking. But it’s not black.”

He said, “Are you being serious?”

I said, “I am trying to be optimistic!”

Between him and this Halloween hair, it’s making it hard to look on the bright side. But not impossible! Tomorrow I am getting a new hat.

It's easy to share this post. Not like sharing pie. I would never ask you to share pie.

This is all MY stuff. Don’t take my stuff.

My blog has recently been added to Blog Nation, which is part of one of the largest networks of blog directories on the Web. Please visit my blog's personal page to vote for my blog and comment to other blog users.